Michelangelo Faces the World
by Turtle kanurtle
Summary: Everyone is gone... and Mikey must make a decision. Attempted one-shot, now In-Progress. Rating may go up.
1. Never Alone

**This is my first story, so please read with that in mind. Any advice and help you would like to give would be greatly appreciated, Thank you! **

**This story takes place after an apocalypse of sorts and Michelangelo hides underground for many years. Now he questions on whether he should go up-top or not. This I intended to be a one-shot, just so I would become familiar with how this site works. But, if you like the story and want me to continue it I will gladly do so. If I have the time, of course! **

**Ok, on to the story! But first, the Disclaimer: I, Turtlekanurtle, do not own TMNT or any of it's characters. Satisfied? **

Michelangelo stared at the ceiling of the lair, watching a stream of water drip from a large crack in the stone.

The water dripped quietly, over and over again, falling to the same spot.

A puddle had even started to form.

Mikey turned right side up from lying on the couch. He looked around at the fallen, grey walls of the lair, the ruble of rocks strewn every place from age and wear, the remnants of memories from days past, and could not help but feel a hollow emptiness well up inside him.

*Drip*

*Drip*

They were all gone, his family, his friends.

And he was left here alone, rotting away in desolation and grief, helpless to change the past.

But as Mikey stared at the water dripping into the puddle, he pushed himself up. Enough running away from the future and enough living in the past. He had been unable to do anything for so long; even now age had become an excuse against taking action.

He felt how heavy his skin had fallen, how weak and un-exercised he had become. Only the fear, grief, and lack of food kept him from becoming over-weight.

Emotionally, he felt as hard as stone but yet still soft and venerable. As if it required only a spoon to break that stone. But either way, he was tired of it: Staring at the dripping water, wasting away, living in fear, waiting to die.

What was something Leo had told him?

"It would be better to die on your feet then to live on your knees, Mikey. Please, don't ever back away from that truth. I know you have more courage than you allow yourself to believe."

Mikey nodded absently from the memory. 'Yeah Leo, this time around I'm gonna do it. You guys better be watching. I don't know if I can make it on my own anymore. But we'll see. I might surprise you…I might surprise myself.'

So he got up, and walked to the large door that exited the lair and led out to the sewer tunnels.

He closed his eyes, breathed in, and exhaled slowly. He could do it. Everyone believed he could.

A hand was raised hesitantly and the rusty door was opened.

The sewer tunnels over flooded with water and moss grew every where on the dark damp walls.

He waded through the water, sometimes swimming, and came to a dry tunnel. He walked through the darkness feeling humid and tired.

Nervousness clung to him and each step was placed shakily forward.

But he drove himself further. He could do this. He could do this.

The tunnels winded on and on as if without end. He silently traced the lines in the tunnel walls and noted how old and un-used they seemed.

*Drip*

*Drip*

The water was coming through now. Michelangelo hurried on.

Wait, he saw something.

Up ahead, a tiny ray of light could be seen coming from a half closed manhole cover.

Mikey walked up to it, slowly and then faster and faster. He heart accelerated, and a new hope and confidence filled him, pushing away the darkness that lingered.

He climbed up the stairs and relished the light that now half bathed him.

He was particularly there; just a little further.

At the top, Mikey stopped. He could almost see the sky outside from the small opening that the un-closed manhole cover left.

Did he really dare? Did he really want to leave the sanctuary of the lair? Leave all the memories behind? Mikey thought to himself, as his hand lingered before the cover, unsure of whether to open it or not.

No, he had left that behind him. This was the moment he would conquer his fears, make his family proud, to die on his two own feet: tall and proud. Three other hands appeared beside his own, ready to help push the heavy cover aside. Mikey smiled.

So, quickly without any further hesitation, he pushed the manhole cover aside.

**Yeah, not much an ending, right? But thank you for reading anyway! Please review on your way out. **

***Remember: Criticism makes the author's heart grow fonder!***


	2. The Surface

**[A/N: Because of a few followers' requests, I've decided to continue this story. I'm currently busy with another story, but I'll try and get back to this one as much as I can. Be patient with me and I hope you enjoy this continuation.]**

…

It took a couple minuets for Michelangelo's eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight, but after they did, he gazed in speechless amazement at the world around him.

Maybe it was because it had been so long since he had seen it, or maybe because he had always filled his head with images of a rotting waste land that it caught him off guard. But nothing prepared him for what the surface really looked like.

Roots covered cracked concrete and stretched into tall trees that grew on crumbling sky-scrapers. The sound of water echoed quietly as small rivers ran through the streets and into sewer drains. Patches of moss and grass grew in the crevices and seemed to spread in every direction.

The war filled city he had once known had transformed into an urban forest. The unbearable smell of corpses and smoke was now replaced with fresh, clean air. The sound of screams and sirens was replaced with trickling water and bird song. The dark, ash filled sky was now replaced with an endless sea of blue and white.

A feeling of hope came over Mikey as he gazed over the new and refurbished NYC. It somehow inspired him. While he had been struggling with the past, the city had moved on. It had been slowly rebuilding itself all this time. And Mikey knew that if the city could heal, so could he.

With this renewed mind-set, he set out to make a new home for himself on the surface. And to never return to the dark, putrid sewers that had once held him captive in his own fear.

Now, only the future remained.

…

Mikey would've complained about how hard fixing up a home was, but there was no one to complain to.

All this time, he had been searching the city for a new pad. Someplace he could fix up and call his own. And he was lucky enough to find a small out-of-sight apartment that wasn't _completely_ demolished.

The problem was that Mikey didn't know where to start. Handy man know-how was Donatello's department. And…he wasn't here anymore. But Mikey did what he could in his place. You know, like cleaning the place out, finding and rearranging old, splintered furniture, ect., ect.

What he really wished he had was a pair of decent tools. Even if he didn't know how to use them, he could learn. There were a lot of things he needed as well. Food, blankets, and as much as he hated the idea…weapons.

It had only been a couple days since he had ventured to the surface and already he was feeling the urge to escape back down into the sewers. Where he knew it was safe. Up here on the other hand, he knew nothing. Years had passed since the war, and Mikey had no idea whether all the humans had simply died off or if they were still lurking around.

But in his opinion, it was better to be safe than sorry. The sooner he had a weapon to defend himself with, the better.

So here he was, scouring the city for supplies. Even though the city was quiet and he knew there couldn't possibly anyone left in it, Mikey was tense. In fact, he was terrified.

All those years of living in fear hadn't been cured by bright sunlight and some plants. It took all his willpower not to turn around, run home, blockade himself inside it, and never come out. But he wouldn't allow himself to do that. All his fears were simply superficial. There was nothing to worry about.

While he continued trying to stop himself from freaking out, a snap echoed through the city.

Mikey froze.

'It's not what I think it is. It's just some random animal. That's it.'

He recited these thoughts over and over again like a prayer as he slowly turned around. At first, he didn't see anything. But he could hear it coming towards him all the more. And out of the shadows of a building stepped a young boy.

A young human boy…holding a gun aimed at Michelangelo's head.


	3. Juvenile Encounter

**[This chapter's been collecting dust in my folder for the past 3 years, so I decided I might as well post it.]**

...

Within the now-abandoned streets of New York City, a mutant turtle and a human boy were locked in a silent stand-off.

Mikey scarcely dared to breath. It wasn't so much that he was afraid of the boy as he was of the gun pointed at his head. The kid wouldn't keep his finger on the trigger forever. After the initial shock of his appearance wore off, the kid wouldn't hesitate to blow his head off. (He WAS a mutant turtle after all.)

A bead of sweat ran down Michelangelo's face. The kid was obviously waiting for him to make the first move. But Mikey was afraid; he wasn't the ninja he used to be. His once strong legs that showcased him as the fastest of his brothers were now gaunt and weak. How was he supposed to dodge from a practically point-blank distance?

But his time for thinking was up. The kid pulled the trigger and the bullet rocketed from the barrel with an incredibly loud BANG. And that was when Mikey's terror finally peaked, kicking his long-neglected reflexes into action. Quickly, he jumped out of the way; the bullet nicking him as it flew by.

…

The young boy's eyes narrowed in frustration and fear. He continued to shoot frantically but nothing managed to hit the now-moving target. He was never a good shot to begin with and his growing panic wasn't helping. Suddenly a clicking sound filled the air. Looking down, the boy realized it was his gun.

The magazine was empty.

And then the mutant was in front of him, knocking the gun out of his hand. He fell back in shock and stared wide-eyed at the horrible creature now looming over him. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he waited for the inevitable. His last ironic thought was, 'And turtles are supposed to be slow.'

…

Mikey slowly exhaled, letting out a shaky breath of relief. The adrenaline was wearing off and his rapidly beating heart was slowing to its normal pace. He looked down at the small boy cowering in front of him with eyes tightly, screwed shut and suddenly felt incredibly guilty.

Sure, the kid had attacked him first, but he was still just a kid! If it had been him, he would've done the exact same thing. And seeing him up close, Mikey realized he was just as scared as he had been, if not more.

Reaching down, Mikey picked up the gun that was lying on the ground where he had knocked it away and began to retrieve all the bullets that had been scattered about. While he was re-loading the gun, the boy stole a peek at him. Then another. And then openly stared at him in confusion

When finished, Michelangelo walked towards the boy and then stopped a couple feet away when he started to scoot back fearfully. Mikey took the gun and slowly, without any harm intent, held it out to the boy handle first. "A little young to be using a gun, ain't cha kid?" he said in mock reproach. "These things aren't safe, you know. You could shoot your eye out!"

The boy stared dumbfounded at him. Mikey chuckled quietly and pulled the firearm back. "Well, seeing as you're not interested and your aim is terrible, I think I'll hold on to it for you. Just to be on the safe side." He added with a wink.

He then began walking leisurely back home, twirling the gun in his hand and whistling.

For a few minutes, the astonished boy just sat there and gazed blankly after the mutant, who suddenly didn't seem very scary anymore.

…

**Don't expect any more chapters soon, if it all. Unlessssss, of course, I'm bombarded by hundreds of interested followers and encouraging reviews! (****。****^_****・****)****ノ  
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